During the reigns of the three Edwards the collection of wild beasts was largely increased from time to time, and lions were kept in the great Barbican, "C," long known as the Lions' tower, which probably gave rise to the expression, "Seeing the Lions at the Tower."
The menagerie remained there until, in 1834, the various houses were found to impede the restoration of the entrance towers and gates, so they were removed to their present quarters in the Regent's Park; but, most unfortunately, the necessity for the conservation of the Barbican as an important feature of the mediæval fortress was but imperfectly understood, and it was entirely demolished, its ditch filled up, the present unsightly ticket office and engine house being erected on its site.[40]
Besides the towers already named, the outer ward was additionally secured against any attempts at surprise by several cross-walls, "G," with gates, which subdivided it into several independent sections; so that, were any one gate forced, the assailants would only obtain possession of a small courtyard, in which they could be attacked in flank and front, and be overwhelmed by missiles from the curtain walls and towers. All these have long been removed, but their sites will be found marked upon the plan. The two posterns in the north wall of the inner ward against the Devilin and Martin towers, "c" and "g," were not made till 1681.
In spite of all these multiplied means of defence, the Tower was once surprised by a mob in 1381, on which occasion Simon of Sudbury, Archbishop of Canterbury, and Sir Robert Hales, the Treasurer, whom they found in the chapel, were dragged to instant execution by these lawless miscreants, but it is possible that the way was paved by some treachery on the part of those in charge of the gates.
Though subjected to various sieges, the Tower was only once surrendered, after the one in 1460.
In 1263 two posterns were made for the service of the palace. One of these was undoubtedly the Cradle tower, "K"; the other may have been that of the Byward tower, "H," subsequently rebuilt about the time of Richard II.
In 1267 the Papal Legate, Cardinal Ottobon, took refuge in the tower, which was promptly besieged by the Earl of Gloucester. According to the Chronicle of T. Wykes, "the King threw reinforcements into the fortress, and brought out the Legate by the south postern," which can only have been one of the two posterns before mentioned, or that of the Iron Gate tower, "N," which then gave upon the open country without the city walls.
To return to the records. In 1240 the King directed the keepers of the works at the Tower to repair all the glass windows of St. John's Chapel, also those of the great chamber towards the Thames, "J," and to make a great round turret in one corner of the said chamber, so that the drain from it may descend to the Thames, and to make a new cowl on the top of the kitchen of the great tower (the keep?).[41]
In the following year, "the leaden gutters of the keep are to be carried down to the ground, that its newly whitewashed external walls may not be defaced by the dropping of the rain-water; and at the top, on the south side, deep alures of good timber, entirely and well covered with lead, are to be made, through which people may look even unto the foot of the tower, and ascend to better defend it if need be (this evidently refers to a wooden hoarding projecting beyond the stone battlements, and supported on beams and brackets). Three new painted glass windows are to be made for St. John's Chapel, with images of the Virgin and Child, the Trinity, and St. John the Apostle; the cross and beam (rood-beam) beyond the altar are to be painted well, and with good colours, and whitewash all the old wall round our aforesaid tower."[42]
In 1244, Griffin, the eldest son of Llewellyn, Prince of North Wales, was a prisoner in the keep, and was allowed half a mark (6s. 8d.) for his daily sustenance. "Impatient of his tedious imprisonment, he attempted to escape, and having made a cord out of his sheets, tapestries, and tablecloths, endeavoured to lower himself by it; but, less fortunate than Flambard, when he had descended but a little, the rope snapped from the weight of his body (for he was a big man, and very corpulent), he fell, and was instantly killed, his corpse being found next morning at the base of the keep, with his head and neck driven in between his shoulders from the violence of the impact, a horrible and lamentable spectacle," as the chronicler feelingly expresses it.[43]